Paradox Pending
by Crying Willow
Summary: AU. The summer after year 5, things begin to happen. The Dursleys house is no longer safe, and those who everyone thinks are dead ... are actually alive.
1. Things Begin

**Title:** Paradox Pending

**Author:** Crying Willow

**Genre:** Drama/Action/Adventure

**Rating:** PG-13

**Summary:** AU. The summer after book 5, things begin to happen. The Dursley's home is no longer safe, and Dumbledore seeks a new place for Harry. However, Harry has gone missing. Those who everyone thinks are dead ... are actually alive.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own, so do not sue. The characters and places that you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter One: Things Begin**

A sharp persistent knocking echoed through is cluttered office. "Hello? Albus?" an urgent voice called through the door.

"Come in, Minerva." Said Albus Dumbledore, looking up from his work and carefully placing his quill on its stand, banishing the ink spots from his wrinkled papery hands with a flick of the wand.

The door swung open and Professor McGonagall entered briskly. A thin, sallow man came in behind her and shut the door firmly.

"The wards on Potters house have vanished," said McGonagall without preamble. "Mundungus Fletcher sent an owl in this morning, and I left immediately to confirm it. They're gone, Albus. No sign or trace of them left. It's as if that house was never warded."

The headmaster's face was very still as he rose from his chair in slow motion. He stood there, staring over McGonagall's shoulder at something only he could see, and then said in a low voice "I want Harry removed from Privet Drive at once. Bring him here."

------

It was morning, and the sun was just slanting through the windows on the north side of the house. Lily was crouched in the dust motes of the attic, sifting through boxes of old belongings. Wiping her the sweat off her forehead with the back of a sleeve, she set aside a cardboard box of old school photos and reached for a small wooden chest. She grimaced as it scraped across the floor, dragging it towards her. The lid was tied down with twine, and she had to struggle to get the knots undone.

Sliding the top off, she cast the twine aside. The box was filled with wood shavings, and a yellowed piece of parchment rested on top of them. She picked it up shaking the wood shavings away, and unfolded it. It read:

To Lily and James Potter,

For good luck.

Albus Dumbledore

Lily smiled sadly, closed the box, and moved on, never suspecting that later on that day when James went looking for his old quiddich supplies, he would trip on the box from Albus. Never suspecting that out of curiosity he would look inside. And never knowing that life as she knew it was about to be turned upside down.


	2. An Owl and a New Place

**Title**: The Sky Is Quickly Changing  
  
**Author**: Crying Willow  
  
**Genre**: Drama/Action/Adventure  
  
**Rating**: PG-13  
  
**Summary**: The summer after book 5, things begin to happen. The Dursley home is no longer safe, and Dumbledore seeks a new place for Harry. However, Harry has gone missing. Those who by all records are dead ... are not dead.   
  
**Disclaimer**: I do not own, do not sue. The characters and places that you recognize belong to J.K. Rowling.  
  
**  
Chapter Two: An Unexpected Turn Of Events  
  
**It was late morning when Harry found his way down to the kitchen. Aunt Petunia was busy cooking a late breakfast, on account of it being a weekend.  
  
Good morning, did you sleep well? Aunt Petunia asked, stretching her mouth into a forced smile. Ever since the conversation at Kings Cross Station, the Dursleys had been making a serious attempt at treating him kindly. In Harry's opinion, they were simply scared out of their wits at the idea of Moody, Tonks, and Remus appearing on the front step should Harry so much as frown.  
  
Yes, thank you , said Harry cheerfully, sitting down across from Dudley and pulling a face at him. Dudley cowered and averted his eyes.  
  
There was a creaking on the stairs, and uncle Vernon came lumbering into the room. Sitting down, he grabbed the news paper and hid his face behind it, muttering to himself.  
  
After Harry ate breakfast, he quietly slipped back upstairs, and took out his books and parchment. He still had an essay to finish for potions, and he wanted to do his best on it. After all, to be an auror he had to take NEWTS level potions.  
  
Dipping his quill in the ink bottle, he started to write where he had left off. Suddenly there was a tap on the window, making his hand jerk and make a long dash of ink across the page. Muttering he got up and opened the window. Now he'd have to rewrite that entire piece of parchment. Two feet! Glaring, he pulled on the window, which was sticking because of the humid weather. When he had finally yanked it open, a large tawny owl flew in.  
  
It wasn't a school owl – it was too disheveled and raggety. It wasn't Errol, the Weasley's owl, either. Frowning, he closed the window and crossed over to his bed, where the owl was now shaking itself off and spraying bits of down on the comforter. It stuck out it's leg towards him, where a tattered package was tied on with a piece of cream colored twine. Untying it Harry turned it over, looking for a name. The address was written in a tight, spidery scrawl that he had never seen before.  
  
_Harry Potter  
The Smallest Bedroom  
4 Privet Drive  
Little Whinging  
Surrey_  
  
Wasn't that what had been written on his first Hogwarts letter? But this wasn't Hagrids writing, and it didn't look like the other letters from Hogwarts. First of all, it was an aged, lumpy parcel. Secondly, the address was written in plain black ink, instead of the usual colored ink that Hogwarts used. Also, it was missing the seal, and there was no return address.  
  
Maybe it wasn't such a good idea for him to open it, then? Well, it didn't look harmful. And ever since the article in the Quibbler, and the articles in the Prophet that had followed the incident in the department of Mysteries, he had been getting quite a bit of mail from people he didn't know. They usually had a return address though. One girl, Violet Saathoff, wrote him weekly letters, all of which Harry blatantly ignored.  
  
Finally, curiosity overran cautiousness, and he untied the twine, pulling back the aged yellow paper. Unwrapping the packing paper, out poured...  
  
Harry murmured, bemused. Surveying the mess on his floor and bed covers he glared. He was used to muggles using Styrofoam to ensure the safety of something they were sending in the mail, but he'd never heard of feathers being used. Strange. He didn't know everything about wizards, so this could be common, but why not use a simple cushioning charm?  
  
Frowning, he saw there was another layer of paper, this time deep brown and textured. Tearing it apart a shower of paper shavings burst up into his face. Annoyed, he brushed them away. Another layer. What _was_ this thing?! He tore away a layer of light blue paper, a layer of brown again, a layer of crisp white, and there was nothing more to unwrap. A peculiar object rolled out and onto the bed.  
  
It was a small cylinder, a gold half sphere capping each end. Twisted around the body were thin silver cords, interspersed with strange engravings. Puzzled, Harry reached out a hand to pick it up. Suddenly it started glowing an eerie green light, and he jerked his hand back. Not knowing what to do, he sat for several minutes staring at it. Maybe this was just a gift from a fan? Some little wizard trinket? He waited, and he waited, staring at it. When nothing happened, Harry shrugged, picking it up to take a closer look.  
  
Harry felt a familiar jerked behind his navel, and his vision blurred. There was a strange whistling in his ears, and Harry started spinning as if caught on the top of a mountain during a high wind storm. Through the roaring and rushing he vaguely remembered that this had never happened when he had used a port key in the past. Images flashed before his face, and Harry experienced the strange sensation of something similar to being sucked down a drain.  
  
As suddenly as it had all begun, it stopped. Harry stopped spinning and fell to his knees, feeling something soft and wet beneath his hands. ... grass... Looking around he saw a meadow stretching about him, a soft wind playing with the tall stems and rustling the leaves of the trees. Slowly, he stood and looked around. Looking down at his hands, he realized that he still held the strange cylinder. It obviously was a transport devise of some sort, but definitely not a port key....  
  
Instinctively, he reached inside his pocket for his wand. After all, who knew who had sent the package? Not finding it in his right pocket, he stuck his hand in his left. With dawning horror, he realized that it was on the desk in his bed room, back at Privet Drive. ....  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
Remus apparated behind a row of trees in the park, two streets over from Privet Drive. Dumbledore had sent him to collect Harry, and bring him to Grimmauld Place.Walking briskly, he headed down Magnolia Road. He knew about the broken wards on the Dursley house, and he was wracked with worry. The sooner Harry got to Grimmauld Place, the better. In fact, Remus was surprised anything hadn't happened yet. If someone broke the wards, wouldn't they take advantage of Harry's lack of protection immediately? Instead of waiting around? It didn't seem right.  
  
As he turned down Magnolia Crescent, he quickened his pace. What if something had happened to Harry while Dumbledore had been planning? What if he was too late. Mundungus and Arabella said Harry was perfectly fine, he reminded himself. Be sensible – it's bright daylight, and they would have seen someone approaching the house. We would know if something had happened.  
  
Finally he arrived at number four Privet drive – worry had made the walk seem longer. Straightening his tattered robes, he knocked on the door. Listening attentively as voices sounded from inside, and footsteps approached.   
  
The door opened and a thin, blond women with a horse like face looked out. Her eyes immediately widened twice their usual size, and she opened the door wider. Come in, come in, she said, ushering him quickly inside and closing the door. She peered outside, looking frightened, then looked back at him.  
  
Nobody saw me, he said, reading her face correctly. She looked slightly relieved, but still frightened.  
  
What do you want? She snapped. We haven't been mistreating him, we've given him everything he wants. She suddenly looked suspicious. Did he write to you? Complaining? I swear he's just trying to get attention, the boy will do anything. He's lying, and Vernon will say the same!  
  
Clearly, she thought he was following up on the threat they had made at the train station. The corners of Remus' mouth twitched into an amused smile. That's not why I'm here, Mrs. Dursley. I'm here to see Harry.  
  
She opened her mouth as if to protest, then snapped it shut. So – you're not – You've just come to ... visit?  
  
Yes, in a since. I apologize for arriving unannounced, but I've come to take Harry away. He'll be – ah – visiting with some friends.  
  
Petunia still looked suspicious, and extremely put off, but all the same she hurried up stairs to get Harry.  
  
  
Petunia stood outside Harry's bed room door and knocked politely, acutely aware that one of _them _was waiting at the bottom of the stairs. There was no answer. She knocked harder, fuming inside. Ignore her, would he? She knew he was in there, she had seen him go there after break fast, and he hadn't come out yet. She rapped her knuckles harder against the door, and stuck her ear close to listen. She could hear a strange flapping sound, and a strange squawking.  
  
Petunia shivered. Who _knew _what he was up to in there. I'm going to open the door, Harry! She called. Her nerves were fraying quickly. She had to make sure she didn't blow up at him while that man was in the house. Turning the handle, she opened the door. And stared.  
  
Oh my GOD! She gasped. It was a _mess. _There were feathers everywhere, pieces of twine, and shreds of paper. Worst of all, there was a _disgusting _and _unsanitary _and FREAKISH bird beating it's wings against the closed window! It was making such a racket, she was surprised no one had heard it before. Snatching up a book from the nearest shelf, she ran over to the window shrieking and waving it around. Forcing the window open, she waved her book, yelling and pushing the bird out the window. When it was out she slammed the window closed and locked it.  
  
someone cleared their voice. Whirling around Petunia saw the man standing in the door way and looking extremely baffled. She tried to put on a polite smile.  
  
Well, seems he's gone, she said.  
  
His voice had hardened, and he was surveying the room with a sharp eye. What's all this mess?  
  
Mess! Her house was rarely ever messy, and to have a stranger (even if they were a -_freak_) see it as such, it was an outrage! It wasn't like this last I saw! She fumed. He came up here after breakfast, was in here for a few hours, and now look!  
  
It was like this when you came up here?  
  
Yes, well, all except for the owl.  
  
The smallest of smiles flashed across his face, then disappeared. If you had not let it out, we might have been able to track it's owner. He glared.  
  
Petunia shifted uneasily. There was a pregnant pause, then he spoke.  
  
Well, I'll be going then. Don't be surprised if more people show up, they'll want to have a look at this themselves. So don't clean it up. He was about to turn away when he suddenly looked back at her. Have you seen anyone recently? Anyone ... unusual?  
  
Petunia racked her brain, and came up with a blank. She shook her head. No, no one.  
  
Nodding, the man disappeared down the stairs, and she heard the front door slam. Everything was quiet. Petunia stood in the middle of her nephews room, taking deep breaths. Finally, she pulled herself together. She certainly wasn't going to say anything about this to Vernon when he came home. No, she'd have to keep quiet and pretend nothing had happened.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  


  
Again, Lilly felt a tingling at the back of her neck, and she looked around. This had been happening for two days now, and it wasn't disappearing. It was the feeling she had gotten during Defense against the Dark Arts Class at Hogwarts, when she was practicing shielding charms. It was the feeling she had gotten every time she was in a duel, and her shield dissolved. It was the feeling she had had at Godrics Hollow, when the charm had been broken.  
  


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  


  
The meadow was quiet. Nothing but the wind rustling through the grasses and the branches of the surrounding forest. Harry stood stiffly, waiting for the worst to happen. But nothing happened. In a way, this scared Harry more than anything. The peaceful silence, the sunny sky, the light breeze... it was all so natural, as if nothing was wrong.  
  
Maybe he should hide? In a tree, or behind a fallen log? Hide from what? From whatever was coming. Whoever had sent the package. Whoever had brought him here. Not knowing who or what made it difficult to hide, however. Why wasn't anything happening?  
  
Harry's ears were tuned in to the slightest rustle, his eyes noticing every movement.  
  
A sound in the distance. Was that a horses whiny? The sound of hooves, to the right of him in the woods. The rustle and snap of branches. Harry spun around and tried to pierce the woods. Suddenly, a man rode out from the bushes. He wore chain mail and a sword hung from his belt. He saw Harry immediately and drew rein. Several more riders appeared and came to a halt behind the first.  
  
The first man rode closer and looked down at Harry. He had a thick beard and hard blue eyes.  
  
Qui êtes vous? He barked.  
  
  
  
  
AN: Sorry for not updating in so long. In short, I've been busy. Anyway, feedback is lovely. Reviews are lovely. I'm open to ideas and suggestions, and if I like them I might include them in the story.


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